Re: [Adult] VIP Area
His life up until that point could, potentially, be divided into two parts: the time he spent wishing he was anything but normal, and the time he spent wishing he could go back to a time when he was. Luke's definition of normal, however, was something that didn't involve bruises and scars, death threats and mind games, fictional characters and keys that led to their magical worlds. That was why, therefore, his expression became one of confusion when she admitted that she'd never imagined them as normal people, at least until she kept talking. "Oh," he said, a spark of understanding falling into place on the heels of a gurgle of laughter. "See, when I think of normal, I mean something that's not... not this. No imaginary people in our heads or bad things all the time. We can be normal without being boring," he teased. "We can be whatever we want. Unstructured, white picket fences, whatever." He somehow managed to keep from slurring his words too badly, which meant that his explanation actually made some semblance of sense.
He beamed down at her, all drunken boyish pleasure when she said no one could compete with him. Maybe it was exactly what he wanted to hear, but he was too drunk to doubt her, and the sound of her laughter made him want to believe that everything could turn out okay in the end. "They don't know me," he protested, wrinkling his nose. "If they did, they wouldn't want to get at me. You overestimate me, Wren. You always have." He tipped his head to the side, against her fingers, and shook his head. "I won't, because there's nothing for me to wise up to."
The hug almost made him stumble backwards, as unexpected as it was, and his hands rose to rest on her shoulders on instinct. He wasn't sure what had made her tighten her embrace, though he suspected it might have something to do with his correction from your son to our son. Which, really, was only the truth. He pulled a face at the mention of a condition, but he wanted her next to him too badly to refuse. "Alright. What is it?"